My Beautiful Friends
by post-war
Summary: AU – set in the second year of college. Cook's group of eccentrics and misfits are popular, weird and beautiful ... but they have secrets. Naomi, always watching from a distance, becomes swiftly and irreversibly involved in their strange lives.
1. Chapter 1

1._  
><em>

Morning was arriving, the sun slowly rising from behind the council flats in a way that Naomi always found terribly romantic – some kind of derelict, futuristic dystopia, after the apocalypse and the torching of the earth; their solid, blocky forms stretching skywards, the remnants of mankind's attempt to combat the annihilation of death by leaving their huge, physical markers of existence – we were here, we lived. Early sunlight flashed off the metal of cars and the sheen of windows as the oranges and reds receded and blue sky spread. A cold sky; an Autumn sky of no cloud.

Naomi inhaled the last drag of her cigarette and tossed it to the ground. She couldn't remember why she'd started smoking, or exactly when, but she figured it had something to do with occupying her hands that fidgeted nervously when not presented with a task. The trees fidgeted nervously too, leaves twitching restlessly as the wind rifled through them, the same way it picked up and whipped Naomi's hair until she quickly shrugged back through the window frame into her room. She pulled the window shut and snapped back the handle, watching through the veil of spindly branches that clicked at the glass as James Cook met Effy Stonem in the car park.

He walked up, shoulders slouched, hands in pockets, looking alternately between his feet as they walked and the girl as she waited. She was perched on the bonnet of a maroon car, dressed in barely anything and not even shivering, her long narrow legs crossed neatly and ending in oversized army boots. Naomi couldn't tell if Cook was smiling, but she assumed that he was as he extracted a small, clear bag from his trouser pocket and presented it to Effy. It was no secret that Cook dealt drugs, and was no secret that Effy took more of them than she should. Every Friday morning for a year Naomi had witnessed this exchange. 'Something for the weekend babe,' she'd imagine Cook saying in his ambiguously northern accent, 'got something for Cooky in return?' It was no secret that they were fucking either, though Effy's boyfriend seemed endearingly unaware of it (an awkward, gangling boy with a beautiful face and deep, trusting eyes). Then they would withdraw into the lobby of the nearest block, Cook a few paces behind Effy with his head cocked to the right, and the door would swing closed behind him, and by then Naomi knew the water would be hot enough for her to shower.

The two of them wouldn't stumble into college until third period – Cook distracted and edgy, his legs twitching wildly beneath the desk like electricity was pulsing through them; Effy distant from everything, including Freddie's tanned arm around her shoulders, her blue eyes glazed and fixated on nothing. Her best friend and classmate Pandora would make admirable attempts to engage her attention with gel pens, highlighters, lollipops and hair clips until she would eventually give up and stare dreamily out of the window, her chin in her cupped palm and her swinging feet banging between the metal legs of her table and chair. 'Quit shaking the table Panda,' the irritable admonishment from Katie Fitch – beautiful, acerbic and confident, all red-hair extensions and cleavage, shadowed by her quiet twin, Emily – timid and introverted, like an inversion; the negative space left by Katie's impression.

Lingering on the awkward outskirts of social groups, belonging to no one as a best friend and very few as an acquaintance, Naomi had allowed herself to become infatuated with that band of friends. The way they moved, the way they talked, the way they clustered in the common room and commanded the attention of everyone without even trying. There were rumours going about the college (there always were) that Cook had pulverised a boy in her year in a fight at a house party, and that they had all collaborated to hide the body somewhere in the rich earth of the woods. Then there were rumours that Effy had killed him in a drug-inspired paroxysm, forcing Cook to cover for her. Then there were rumours that the boy was fine, had moved schools and Robert Edmunds had seen him cycling home one day.

Though Naomi didn't believe the rumours herself, she would find herself sneaking glances at the roughened knuckles of Cook's hand as he brushed it patently across Effy's backside, wondering if they were capable of fracturing someone's eye-socket and dislocating their jaw as Abigail Yeung insisted she _saw_ happen; or observing Effy sceptically from over the top of her text book as she gazed vacantly into space, waiting, _willing_ her to launch into one of those man-slaying seizures. The twins had been in secondary school with Naomi. Katie had flung occasional remarks of dislike towards her for no apparent reason and Emily had trailed after her, apologetic and ghostly. In fact, Emily was the only member of the group that had ever even looked at Naomi since six-form had started. A few times Naomi had thought she may even open her mouth to speak to her – but the words never came, and Naomi was always left in silence.

And Naomi's life would have carried on like this, and she would have continued to have nothing to do with this group or any of the events that surrounded them, if it hadn't been for one chance encounter with James Cook that Friday afternoon.

..

Walking the length of the deserted locker corridor, Naomi was on her way to meet her politics teacher Kieran on one of his many fag-breaks. Naomi admired Kieran's apathy for existence and his liberal use of curse-words, and he was the only other human in the building that she could stand to talk to for longer than two minute stretches; Kieran, she was sure, felt much the same way. But the silence of the corridor, punctuated only by her soft footsteps, erupted in a cacophony of violent sounds as the double doors at the end were hurled open and Cook burst through them, his feet slapping against the polished linoleum as his legs pounded down the hallway. 'Naomi!' he called out as he saw her, his voice ecstatic as if she was an old friend he had been longing to see. He jerked to a halt in front of her, his chest heaving and his face contorted with exhaustion and elation. 'Naomi, couldn't do us a quick favour could ya?' he asked.

'Excuse me?'

Cook glanced over his shoulder cautiously as he reached into his pocket. 'Stick these in your locker, yeah?'

Naomi's confused gaze left Cook's green eyes to study the clear plastic packet of indeterminate white pills.

'No way,' she replied, looking back up at him and watching his face fall in a disgruntled teenage manner.

'Aw come on Naomikins,' he pleaded, taking another look over his shoulder. 'The coppers are onto me, they're here at the school. It'll only be for one day, promise,' he reasoned as he studied her face carefully, breaking into a toothy grin as he saw her reserve wavering. 'Go on,' he encouraged, like the embodied voice of Naomi's conscience.

'Just for one day?' she repeated.

'Scout's honour,' Cook replied, already shoving the bag into her half-opened palm.

Naomi seriously doubted Cook had ever attended a Scout's meeting.

'You're a life-saver babe,' he told her, as he began to walk briskly down the corridor, away from her. 'I owe you, yeah?' He turned as he walked, reversing for a few paces. 'Call me if you ever need a good seeing to,' he said, looking her appreciatively up and down before winking, then turning and running through the doors into the main hall.

Naomi's fist gripped the bag so tightly she could feel each individual pill making an indentation on her palm. 'As if!' she called out to the empty corridor. 'Wanker,' she muttered. She looked left and then right. Then she opened her bag and took out her pencil case, carefully placing the bag in amongst the innocuous stationary and zipped it up before stowing it away in her locker. Pleased with the level of concealment, she continued to her scheduled meeting.

..

'Are there police at the school today Kieran?' Naomi asked, as she handed him her lighter.

'No ...' he answered awkwardly, his cigarette pausing on the way to his lips. 'What makes you think that?' he asked.

'Someone told me there was,' she answered.

'Oh ... well,' Kieran shrugged as his set the cigarette between his lips and began talking through the side of his mouth. 'Yes, in that case. Someone's been a bit too obvious with their lucrative contraband business,' he disclosed. The lighter flared, scorching the tip of the cigarette.

Naomi exhaled in contempt. 'Wouldn't be James Cook by any chance would it?'

Kieran sighed at the mere mention of the name. 'The whole feckin' lot of them,' he said, removing the cigarette so he could talk normally. 'The weird one, the gobby one, the one who's out of her depth,' he paused mid-list and looked seriously at Naomi. 'You stay away from them. You've got a good head on your shoulders. They're looking at a future in the fast food industry at best.'

Naomi rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, alright _Dad_.'

..

Naomi spent the rest of the day in a state of mild panic. Every flickering of a passerby through the translucent glass of the classroom, every register where her name was called, every bell that sounded the end of period, would cause Naomi to jump up in her seat, convinced that in a few seconds she would be taken away – frogmarched from the building in the strong arms of two matronly police women, heavy-booted and stern, the walkie-talkies clipped to their belts spluttering in an outbreak of scrambled voices – _we've got her, she's coming quietly, secure the vehicle_. Her mind raced, trying to remember the exact amount of years she would serve for possession of class-A drugs.

But the police didn't frogmarch her from the building. They didn't even turn up. In fact, the entire school was so devoid of police presence that Naomi began to wonder if they'd actually been there at all. And instead of pleading her innocence in a cold, stark room with a two-way mirror, she just found herself stood in front of her locker as the bell sounded at three-thirty to mark the end of lessons, wondering what to do with her stash.

'Hi,' said a voice to Naomi's left, causing her to start as if she'd been shoved from behind and swing round to the source of the voice, her earlier panic returning in full force as it flooded with renewed vigour through her body.

'Jesus,' she breathed in relief as she saw Emily Fitch stood next to her, a peculiar half-smile turning up one corner of her mouth.

'You got our gear?' Emily asked.

'Oh ... right,' Naomi said, recovering and reaching into her locker for her pencil case.

'Whoa, stop,' Emily reprimanded, grabbing Naomi's wrist before her grasp could advance any further.

Naomi looked down and the small hand encircling the bones and skin of her arm.

'Too obvious,' Emily said, slowly withdrawing her hand, her fingertips brushing along the sensitive skin below Naomi's palm, where blue vessels pumped blood hard and fast to her fingers. 'Meet me here,' Emily pushed a folded piece of paper into Naomi's hand. 'Six o'clock.'

'Are you _shitting_ me?' Naomi asked, screwing her hand into a fist around the paper. 'What _are_ you, like, a government operative or something?'

Emily's cheeks twitched slightly, like she wanted to smile. 'Just meet me, okay?'

Naomi sighed, banging the door of her locker shut. 'Whatever.'

And then Emily was gone. Naomi bit her lip before running a hand through her hair, displacing her fringe and leaving it to fall back across her eyes. She pushed it back again irritably, telling herself that she wasn't going to meet Emily just to save James Cook's sorry arse, hitched up her bag and walked away, knowing that she wouldn't even get to the door before she'd turn around, collect the pills from her locker and study the address Emily had given her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the comments, and thank you for welcoming me back :) Would love to know your thoughts on this chapter**

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><p>2.<p>

It was gone half-past six before there was any sign of life in the deserted car park. Naomi pulled her coat tighter around her and lit another cigarette. Then another. The skin of her hands was drying and cracking in the cold and as she crushed the end of her third cigarette with the ball of her foot she was thinking of abandoning the wait and tossing the little bag into the fast-flowing body of the unassuming river.

Deserted cars sat askew within the orthogonal grid of the car park, some burnt out, and as the sun began to withdraw behind the buildings and cast long shadows across the asphalt Naomi started to feel unsafe. The sudden hollow cracking of brittle twigs caused her to stare wide-eyed across the tarmac towards the barrier of trees between the car park and the road. It was Emily, emerging from the wrinkled shade of the trees cautiously, shuffling through the dried, curled leaves that lay on the ground. Naomi watched her approaching, her arms and hands trained tightly to her sides as she walked, as if she was self-conscious of their movement.

'Hi,' she said once she was close enough to be heard.

'You're late,' Naomi replied.

'Yeah ... sorry,' Emily answered, and as if by way of an explanation she turned her head away from Naomi and gazed back towards the trees just as Katie finally picked her way out from the undergrowth.

'Oh,' Naomi stated, at once disgruntled and intrigued by the prized twin's presence.

Katie was flushed and irritable by the time she reached Naomi and Emily, a single yellowing leaf suspended in the finer wisps of her red hair. 'What the fuck Emily,' were the first words from her mouth. She didn't acknowledge Naomi. 'Do you think we're the fucking SAS or something?'

'We needed to be discreet,' was the quiet reasoning.

Naomi resisted the urge to ask why Katie had been brought along at all if discretion was the main objective.

'Jesus Christ Em,' Katie sighed with dramatic fatigue. 'You're actually going to _become_ invisible one day, you know?'

A noncommittal frown flitted across Naomi's features at the statement, but disappeared before either twin noticed its presence.

Katie looked between the two expectantly. 'Well?' she asked. 'Has she got it?'

Emily's mouth quivered momentarily, like she was considering reposting to her sister's barked imperatives, but she instead turned her big brown eyes to Naomi, raising her eyebrows slightly. 'Have you?'

Naomi reached into her pocket and withdrew the bag, the plastic crinkled and creased from where her fist had been clenching and unclenching around it in nervous spasms.

'See?' Emily said, proudly, as if she was the victor of an ethical gamble to which Naomi was imperative but not privy. Katie remained unimpressed. 'Whatever,' she said dismissively, snatching the bag from the loose grip of Naomi's thumb and fore-finger and pocketing it immediately.

Naomi hadn't been expecting a thank you, and wasn't surprised when it didn't come. What did follow was an uncertain moment of silence, where Katie made it quite clear that she didn't want to hang around, and Emily looked like maybe she might like to. Naomi stood, her hands beginning to twitch uneasily as she waited to be excused.

The moment passed, ending with a bored exhalation from Katie and a 'come on Ems, let's go.'

Emily looked up at Naomi again as Katie began to walk off. 'Thanks for keeping schtum,' she said.

Naomi's eyes darted to the side then to the ground. She felt used somehow, cheapened and embarrassed at being so eager to go to such lengths to appease a group of people who didn't even like her. 'Yeah ... well,' she trailed off, pulling her coat tight across her torso again as the wind flapped it outwards.

'You should –' Emily stopped. Naomi watched her judge the distance between herself and her sister. 'You should come over this Saturday,' she said, 'as a thank you,' she justified. 'We'd ... we'd be happy to have you.'

Naomi raised an amused eyebrow at her, 'Would you now?' She glanced at the retreating back of Katie. 'Where?' she asked, as disinterestedly as possible, trying to ignore the excitement she could feel growing in the pit of her stomach.

'We meet in Cook's flat,' Emily gestured to the council block in the foreground – the same block that Naomi could see from her window. 'Number 32.'

Naomi looked up, squinting sceptically. All the years she had lived opposite that flat, never once had she seen Cook enter or leave it other than with Effy on a Friday morning. She supposed it was possible they could live together – but if that was so, why did they always meet in the car park? She looked back at Emily, who was gazing expectantly up at her with big, innocent eyes.

'Cook's flat?' Naomi asked.

Her question didn't really have a point, and all it received was a swift nod. 'Saturday at eight?' Emily prompted, before rolling her eyes as the breeze carried Katie's impatient voice from where she stood by the trees, hands on hips, unimpressed.

Naomi looked at Emily, hard, her pupils small and focused. Then she shrugged evasively. 'Maybe,' she offered. 'You'd better go,' she added as Katie looked increasingly like she was about to march back over and drag Emily away by the scruff of the neck.

'See you tomorrow then,' Emily said, optimistically, her smile dimpling her cheeks, rosy from the cold. Then she turned and scurried back to Katie's side.

...

Cook didn't live there, that was clear enough. In fact no one did, she was pretty sure. The entire flat smelt musty and disused, dust gathered at the corners of the skirting, and the cheap surfaces of the floor and walls had the wornness akin to that of derelict churches – sculpted by the impressions of hundreds of bodies for many years, followed by centuries of nothing. The flat contained a total of three pieces of furniture: a grey, threadbare sofa, upholstered with a fading leaf pattern; a narrow side-table of a deep red wood and elegantly carved legs; and a single bed, visible from the hallway through the bedroom door that stood ajar. The only evidence of any kind of inhabitation was a thin duvet at the foot of the bed, crumpled and twisted into a peak.

'Nice place Cook,' Naomi said, the tone of her voice expertly conveying the opposite.

Cook smile broadly, charmingly ignorant as ever. 'Aw cheers babe,' he said, craning his neck back to look at Naomi upside-down from his position on the sofa. He sat with his legs spread apart, one arm hooked over the arm of the sofa and the other draping across the back, physically claiming as much of the piece of furniture as he could possibly manage. Effy sat next to him, looking up at Naomi with amused curiosity, as if she had been waiting for the evening to get interesting. Freddie sat at her other side, his large hand covering the width of her thigh.

Pandora sat on the floor, legs akimbo, leaning against the radiator beneath the window, seemingly engrossed in a hushed conversation with Katie until: 'You cannot be serious,' Katie said, standing and pointing unnecessarily in Naomi's direction and staring at Emily, who had answered the door and shown Naomi through to the lounge.

'Shut up Katie,' Emily said quietly. 'She did us a favour; it wouldn't kill you to be a bit nicer you know.'

Freddie snorted in amusement, and Cook glanced between the twins. 'Come on Katiekins, we're all friends here,' he said, slapping his thighs and standing up. 'Let's get some drinks inside you ladies,' he said, winking at Naomi. 'Always makes them a bit more _agreeable_,' he explained laboriously, and Naomi thought, briefly, that she saw him look down, deliberately, in the direction of his own crotch. She shook her head, wishing to disregard the gesture, as Cook crouched down to the cupboards of the kitchenette and began palming around inside their dark emptiness.

A look of puzzlement slowly settled over Emily's features as she watched Cook on his hands and knees. 'Are we not –'

'Two words everybody,' Cook announced before Emily could finish, pouncing up from the floor so violently that Naomi felt herself spring back reflexively, 'Tequila slammers.' He wielded a bottle triumphantly with his right-fist, the amber liquid sloshing excitedly around the sides and up the neck.

Pandora pressed her fingertips together repeatedly in silent, excited applause, whilst Katie glared intensively at first Cook, then Emily, before finally focusing on Naomi. Awkwardness and uncertainty pervaded the cramped, musicless room and Naomi was under no false impression that this was what the group had been planning to do with their evening. Somehow, her presence had prevented their usual activities, whatever they were, and if she hadn't been too seduced by the prospect of spending her Saturday night with people other than the faction of nudists and mavericks that her Mother welcomed warmly in her house, she probably would have turned and left by now.

Ignoring the melodramatic sounds of abhorrence emanating from her sister, Emily reached up and snatched the bottle from Cook. She twisted open the cap and brought the bottle to her lips. The liquid rushed smoothly down the narrow neck into her mouth as she tipped it, and her throat undulated with a loud gulping noise. She wiped her moistened lips as she handed the bottle to Naomi. 'Tastes like shite,' she observed, 'want some?'

...

It wasn't that the awkwardness and unease went away; it was just that as Naomi felt herself get steadily drunk she found that she cared far less about it. She was huddled into the very corner of the sofa, pinned in position by the proximity of Emily, who sat so close that Naomi could smell the shampoo and body spray applied earlier in the day. Freddie had, mercifully, started playing music via the tinny speakers of his phone. He sat on the sofa with his head rolled back and a limp spliff hanging from between his dry lips, the thin strand of silver smoke trailing from the end occasionally lost in the rolling billows of white that he exhaled. The sweet, damp smell of weed curled lethargically around the room and Naomi began to feel warm and sleepy.

She felt the smooth skin of Emily's bare arm brush against hers and became dimly aware that she was talking. A low, velvety sound, like a bow being drawn across the strings of a cello.

'Do you remember that year seven assembly when they asked you to do that Bible reading?' Emily was recalling.

'Oh God,' Naomi flattened her palms and pressed her fingers to her eyes in recollection, 'What a bunch of twats.' She remembered the passage vaguely. Something about the stony ground – withered roots with no earth to grow from.

'You completely lost it – went on about the 'latent Christianity of state schooling' ...' Emily smiled fondly with the memory. 'The teachers didn't know what to do with such an anti-establishment twelve year old. You had to be escorted from the stage.'

Naomi smiled, looking at Emily. Emily – with her cheeks flushed red from alcohol and her wide eyes deep brown and jovial, her skin pale and unblemished and her fingers gradually stilling their plucking of the hem of her skirt. Through her drunken vision Emily's edges seemed to haze, blurring into an aura that blended her with every sensation Naomi felt – like she was dissolving into a tangible experience at Naomi's fingertips.

'You're completely monged aren't you?' Emily asked, her lips curling into a smile, her eyes scanning tirelessly as Naomi shook the feeling from her and blinked repeatedly.

'No,' Naomi insisted reflexively, pushing herself into a more upright position. '_You're_ monged,' she retaliated.

'I think you're _both_ flippin' adorable,' a different voice said. Naomi looked down to where Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at her with earnest eyes. 'Look at you all snuggled up together,' she elaborated, making Emily look away and shuffle a few centimetres towards Freddie. 'Shut up Panda,' she mumbled, her fingers quickening their manipulation of the material of her skirt.

Naomi sighed and glanced around the room. Cook and Effy were nowhere to be seen, and the door to the hallway had been shut. Freddie's eyes were closed. Naomi knew she should leave soon, but she sat completely still for a few more moments, letting herself pretend that she belonged here. That these were her friends. That this was her life.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The common room was spectacularly, vulgarly loud. The bright, cold weather had broken over the weekend and rain had fallen heavily and solidly since Sunday morning. The atmosphere was sweaty, with steamed windows – moisture clinging to every surface. Naomi elbowed her way past the obstinate crowd that unhelpfully blocked the doorway towards the unoccupied seats in the opposite corner of the room. She shook her head slightly in a feeble effort to shake the rain drops from her hair.

'Flippin' heck.' Pandora sat down heavily next to her, her face red and wet, the cheerful bunches either side of her head bedraggled and matted. 'I knew it was going to rain today because my toast fell butter-side down, didn't it. But then I couldn't eat it and Mum said to bring an umbrella and I did but it turned inside out,' she waggled the limp equipment listlessly at Naomi, 'and now I'm starvin'.'

Naomi glanced, unsure, at Effy who had accompanied Pandora into the common room, completely, inexplicably dry. 'Um ... that's a shame ... Panda,' she said uncertainly, not used to being addressed so affably by any of her contemporaries.

Pandora nodded with genuine dejection and dropped the dislocated umbrella to the floor. Effy watched it fall before snapping her gaze back up to Naomi. 'Where did you get off to Saturday night?' she asked unexpectedly. Although her body was slumped in relaxation, her eyes were bright and sharp. She stroked her fingers absently through the tangled hair of one of Pandora's bunches.

'I just went home,' Naomi answered, truthfully.

'Oh ... I thought I saw you disappear off with Emily,' Effy said, wiping the rain water from her fingers off on her thigh.

'She walked me to the door,' Naomi answered flatly, not appreciating the line of questioning. Emily had wanted to walk her back to her house, despite Naomi's increasingly agitated insistence that she didn't need her to. If Katie hadn't ordered Emily back into the living room for whatever reason Naomi probably wouldn't have been able to escape alone.

'Such a gentleman,' Effy said, her wistful tone negated by the smirk that twisted her lips.

Naomi felt suddenly, unaccountably irritated with the inquisitive, skeletal brunette. 'Speaking of gentlemen,' she said, feeling her voice turn icy in her throat. 'I didn't see much of Cook Saturday night.'

Effy smiled and resumed her affectionate caress of Pandora's hair. 'That's because he was with me,' she answered simply.

Naomi narrowed her eyes slightly, hesitant to continue the conversation. The rain hammered hard against the window of the common room, whipped enthusiastically against the pane by the blustering wind.

'Naomi. Hi.' Emily inadvertently broke the strange silence. She sat down unassumingly at Naomi's other side, sweeping her wet fringe from her forehead. 'I got totally drenched,' she stated with a smile as her nimble fingers started at her coat buttons. 'Katie wouldn't even leave the house,' she shrugged her thick duffel coat from her tiny frame, 'she's just had extensions put in.'

'Oh I wanted hair extensions, didn't I Eff?' Pandora said excitably, an animated hand clamping down on Effy's thigh. 'Pink ones. Or maybe blue ones. Can you change them to go with what you're wearing?' she asked Emily, the closest thing to an authority on the subject available.

'Um ... I don't think so Panda,' Emily answered, flickering an amused smile at Naomi.

'Rubbish,' Pandora mumbled glumly, dropping her gaze to her broken umbrella.

The bell for first period sounded violently, tremoring through the common room with high-pitched, undeserved urgency. It rang and then fell silent, and minutes passed before anyone even began to move. The common room emptied with a tiresome, glacial slowness, until Naomi and Emily were the only ones left.

Emily lingered with her every movement, dragging her coat back over her shoulders with an almost comical sluggishness, and hitching up her bag with even more measured dawdling. 'Aren't you going to lessons?' she asked eventually, as it became clear that Naomi wasn't about to move.

'Free period,' Naomi answered, opening her bag and withdrawing a book.

Emily snorted in amusement. 'Then why are you here? You could've stayed in bed.'

Naomi considered the prospect of staying in her house any longer than absolutely necessary, with a strange man camped out on her bedroom floor; her kitchen full of free-loading and implausibly hungry lodgers; her shower and sink clogged with long, brown hairs of indeterminate origin; and her mother floating around amidst the chaos, enriched and invigorated by the discovery that her purpose in life was to share her meagre wealth with those less fortunate than herself, not sparing a thought for the daughter who's fear of abandonment, set in motion by the departure of her father, was exponentially increasing with the arrival of each new guest.

'I can't concentrate at home,' Naomi answered.

Emily nodded in understanding. 'Try sharing a room with Katie,' she offered.

...

The rain hadn't stopped when she met Kieran on Friday afternoon, as always. She had caught snippets of news on her way past the kitchen in her house – flooding in the south of England, people without electricity, cars abandoned and swept away in the deluge.

'So how's the next Messiah?' Kieran asked, accepting a cigarette from Naomi's presented packet. They were huddled under the overhang of a fire escape. Rain dripped sporadically through the metal in fat, heavy drops.

'Teachers' salary not stretching to fags anymore?' Naomi asked, watching him bring the cigarette to his lips.

Kieran shrugged. 'Not with all the hookers and dope I have to spring for,' he smiled. 'Answer the question, as a Catholic I'm naturally very interested.'

'You're about as Catholic as Jordan's vagina,' Naomi observed. 'And he's repulsive, thanks for asking. I actually _saw_ him steal a red biro from my desk to draw stigmata on himself. My life is a fucking joke.'

'Oh everybody feels like that once in a while,' Kieran reassured her. 'Anyone who doesn't is taking themselves too seriously.'

'You wouldn't be saying that if there was a stark-bollock-naked man sat in your kitchen every time you came home,' Naomi reminded him.

'Perhaps not,' Kieran said thoughtfully, his knuckles scratching loudly across his rough chin. 'But it doesn't hurt to see the humorous irony in the fact that the police have started sniffing around a tractable straight-A student for dealing drugs,' he lit his cigarette.

'What?' Naomi's blue eyes went wide and the cigarette packet slipped from her grasp. It bounced off the step below her and the cigarettes sprang out in an elaborate fan. They turned dark and flaccid in the rain. 'What are you talking about?'

Kieran looked at her. 'It has been ... observed,' he cleared his throat awkwardly, 'that you've been spending time with some ... unfavourable characters.'

Naomi scoffed loudly.

Kieran's face took on a sombre expression that made him look older around the eyes and mouth. 'What are you doing hanging around with those lowlifes Naomi?'

'What's it got to do with you?' Naomi asked, irritably.

'Nothin',' Kieran agreed with a slight nod, 'except that the only way I could get Dominic Blood off your case was to assign myself as your personal tutor.'

Naomi closed her eyes in exasperation. When she opened them again Kieran was staring at her with a look of hesitant apprehension, like a child, scared he had said something wrong. 'All because I_ sometimes_ hang out James Cook and his friends?' Naomi tried to keep her voice steady.

Kieran inhaled deeply from the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and then blew out grey smoke. 'Look, it's all to do with the Blood's 'crack-down' on ... drugs or whatever. I'm sure it'll blow over,' he assured her. 'In the meantime, just be smart. Okay?'

Naomi rolled her eyes. She was always smart.

...

'Have you heard about these floods?' Effy asked Naomi as she leaned elegantly against an adjacent locker. It was gone four o'clock and Naomi had just been ejected from the library after lingering as long as possible to avoid going home. 'Not a good weekend to be on low-ground,' Effy speculated.

Naomi slammed the door to her locker closed. 'What do you want Effy?'

'I want you to come away with us this weekend,' she stated simply.

'No thanks,' Naomi answered, turning away in the direction of the door.

'Why?'

'I've got a lot of work to do.'

'No you don't.'

Naomi sighed. 'Look, Effy, thanks for the offer but I really don't think it's a good idea.'

'Oi-oi!' Cook swung an arm around Naomi's shoulder, an act that made her jump and swerve round incredulously to see Emily and Freddie stood at his side. 'She comin' or what?' Cook asked, retracting his arm and pointing at Naomi. 'Katie's got the motor sorted.'

'She doesn't want to,' Effy told them.

'What?' Emily asked, then rushed a hand to her mouth as if she hadn't meant to word to escape.

Naomi glanced quickly at Emily. 'I never said I didn't want to ...' she looked back at Effy.

'Good,' Cook said, once again slipping an unwelcomed arm around Naomi's shoulders, and before Naomi had time to protest further she found herself cajoled out of the building and into the car park where Katie sat at the wheel of a tired-looking, beige-coloured Volvo with windscreen wipers that complained with a squeal and a click each time they shuddered across the glass. Pandora sat in the passenger seat, fiddling tirelessly with a fluffy monkey toy that dangled from the rear-view mirror.

Cook wrenched the door opened and Naomi felt herself get manhandled onto the backseat. Emily followed, and Effy sat half on Freddie's lap and half on Cook's in order for them to all fit. 'Where are we even going?' Naomi asked, trying to rearrange the uncomfortable seatbelt clip beneath her.

'Cook's Mum's house,' Emily answered. 'It's beautiful. You'll love it.'

Naomi frowned. 'How do you know what I'll love?'

Katie glared at Naomi through the rear-view mirror before shifting gear jerkily and swinging the car round away from the front of the college. 'Effy, move your fat head I can't see a cocking thing,' she ordered, and Effy ducked slightly to the side, towards Cook.

Naomi felt Emily shift a little, almost imperceptibly, closer to her. Their shoulders and thighs were pushed up against each other and the windows steamed with hot, moist breath. 'Is it far?' she asked.

'It's out of town,' Emily answered. Katie jabbed a finger at the stereo and the radio crackled loudly through the old speakers.

With a brief pang of guilt and panic Naomi thought about Kieran. She felt her skin prickle with sweat as the heat in the car increased and she shifted awkwardly to the side to rub her hand along the condensation of the window, forming a tiny portal to the outside in the opaque screen of white.

'Aw man I love this song,' Cook said excitably, banging his fist against the ledge of the car door. 'Turn it up Katiekins!'

The volume was cranked up loud enough to drown out the unhealthy drone of the engine.

Naomi kept quiet and watched the houses and cars whip by in a wet, street-lit blur.

...


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry if the double-upload confused anyone. Did it wrong the first time ... *out of practise***

4.

The scenery had grown unfamiliar about halfway through the journey. The city started to fade into suburbia, which in turn faded into agriculture, and then Naomi felt the car climbing, her weight leaned back against the seat. The incline of the car and the heat from the other bodies made her head feel heavy and swollen, like she was somnolent with fever. The light was waning rapidly, the gloominess compounded by the overcast sky. Rain continued to fall, loud and fast, the wipers of the car racing frantically across the windscreen.

Naomi felt nervousness twist in her stomach, a feeling not helped by the relentless winding of route. She didn't know where she was or how she would get home, rendering her thoroughly dependent on a group of people that she barely knew.

She felt a light squeeze around her forearm. 'You okay?' Emily asked her. Emily's eyes were deep and earnest, filled with genuine concern. Naomi glanced around the rest of car, a collection of scruffy heads and languid bodies slumped lethargically against the seats, indifferent to the way Effy rubbed her bony fingers along the inside of Cook's thigh as he tapped his own stubby, thick fingers against the car door slightly out-of-time to the music from the radio. Naomi looked back at Emily who was waiting attentively for her response. She realised then, somewhat cynically, that Emily, by far the kindest and most welcoming of the group, would be her most beneficial ally. _Be smart_, Kieran had told her.

'I'm fine ... thanks,' Naomi answered, placing her hand on top of Emily's briefly. It felt small and warm beneath her palm.

Emily seemed satisfied by the gesture, and a tiny, impish smile softened her features. 'Good,' she said, 'because we're nearly there.'

Naomi sat up slightly with interest, trying to peer through the window, but was jerked forward suddenly as Katie breaked and crunched the obstinate gears of the car into reverse, spinning round in her seat to squint out of the rear window as she ploughed the car backwards. 'Missed the fucking turning _again_,' she grumbled, her hands slapping against the steering wheel as she wrenched it around.

'You should've let me drive,' Effy told her calmly.

Katie glared at her before turning round to face forwards again. 'Over my dead body,' she muttered.

The car came to another dramatic halt as Pandora was ordered out of the car to open the gates that prevented their access. The white headlights of the car were the only source of light, turning the rain into bright white slashes in the dark. Naomi glanced nervously at Emily. Despite Emily's reassuring smile Naomi couldn't swallow down the feeling she was entering at her peril. She tried her best to make out the landscape in the darkness, but her efforts were refused.

The door slammed and the vehicle shook as Pandora returned, smiling, spackled with rain and mud. 'Blinkin' heck,' she said, twisting in her seat to speak to a mostly disinterested audience. 'It ain't half a filthy night. Bloomin' freezin' and all. Look – you can see my jolly old nipples right through this top,' she observed, thrusting out her chest and looking down.

Despite herself, Naomi found her gaze trained on Pandora's chest before shamefully catching Emily's bemused look: amusement, intrigue and a quirked eyebrow. Disturbingly Effy-esque.

'Panda, no one is interested in your tits,' Katie admonished as the car rolled forwards through the gates. 'Sit back,' she ordered, 'I can't concentrate.' The engine growled softly as the car moved forwards and Katie hunched over the wheel, straining to see through the rain.

The car's achingly slow progress only increased Naomi's feeling of anxiousness. She fidgeted awkwardly, her hands running agitatedly up and down the sharp edges of her seatbelt strap until the car, finally, slowed to a complete stop. Katie nudged off the lights and with a twist of the key the engine ceased its shuddering.

'Nice one Katie,' Cook said, immediately opening the car door and springing out into the night. Effy slithered out after him, followed by Freddie, whose long body seemed to unfold from the car like meccano, leaving Naomi and Emily alone on the suddenly spacious back seat.

'After you,' Emily said, nodding in the direction of the closed door next to Naomi.

...

They bolted through the rain so fast that Naomi had barely caught sight of what she was heading towards. A building. A building so large and long that its full extent was masked by the darkness. She felt gravel underfoot, crunching and spraying out behind them as they ran towards the porch. They skidded to an impatient standstill as Cook banged his fists against the wooden door and a blinding security light sprang from the darkness. Emily was looking at Naomi in the new brightness. Naomi wiped the rain from her face and looked away, staring hard at the rough walls of the building. As they waited for the door to open, the only sound Naomi could hear was the rain and the surge of pulsing blood in her ears.

'Where the fuck is he?' Katie demanded after a few seconds, one arm secured around Effy's slight waist while her free hand busily brushed away the wet tendrils of red hair that clung to her face.

The sound of fumbling keys and turning handles made the group take a collective step away from the door and it opened in a slow, measured way to reveal a boy, about their age, standing in the porch.

'Goodness me it's raining ferociously out there isn't it?' observed the boy. 'Get inside the lot of you before you catch cold,' he said, stepping aside to let everyone through. 'Not that you can actually catch a cold from the cold of course,' he continued over the bustle of the crowd piling through the door, 'as it's an infection of the respiratory system caused by an airborne virus –' the boy caught sight of Naomi, 'and I see we have a new member in our ranks.' His manner faltered as he looked at the stranger, and he glanced towards Cook uncertainly, as if waiting for direction.

'Easy JJ,' Cook said, his hands slapping down upon the boy's shoulders. He was a broad, pallid-looking character with untrainable curled hair and the iridescent blue eyes of a genius. 'This is Naomi, she's alright.'

Naomi flicked JJ a disingenuous smile.

The boy hesitated, then held out his hand. 'Hello Naomi,' he said. 'I'm Jeremiah.'

Naomi briefly accepted the offered hand. The boy's skin was soft and girlish. 'Pleasure,' she said, her voice conveying the opposite. She looked past JJ into the room behind him, a massive double-height space with two sweeping staircases either side, and a gallery winding around the perimeter at first floor. The walls were covered with antlers, mounted on wooden shield-shaped plaques, some with skulls, some without – bones cream and cracked and spindly like a skeletal web stretched across the walls. 'Fuck me,' Naomi breathed before looking back at JJ. 'Do you live here?' she asked.

Cook threw his head back with laughter at the mere prospect. 'JJ here just tidies up the place sometimes,' he said, pushing past him into the house.

'You tidy up after Cook's Mum?' Naomi clarified.

JJ glanced at Cook. 'Well I ...er,' his fingers scratched around noisily in his curly hair.

Naomi rolled her eyes. 'Whatever boys, I don't really give a shit about your secrets,' she said. 'You could have Lord sodding Voldemort all trussed up in the pantry for all I care,' she informed them as she ventured further into the grand hall of antlers. She caught Emily staring at her again, her head cocked questioningly and her eyes wide and concerned, but Naomi ignored her. She looked down at her feet as she walked. Of course she cared. Why did they even bring her here? Why did she allow herself to be brought?

She heard quick footsteps following her.

'It _is _Cook's Mum's place,' Emily told her, earnestly. 'She's just never here. She lives in like, fucking, Dubai or something. She's some kind of artist.'

Naomi stopped walking. 'Fine,' she said, not interested in Emily's garbled explanation. 'I believe you.' She looked at Emily. The girl looked terrified that she might've said something wrong. Naomi sighed, remembering her own pledge to keep on good terms with Emily. She decided to change the subject. 'So ... do you guys come here every weekend?'

'Most weekends yeah,' Emily answered, seemingly pleased that Naomi was continuing to engage her in conversation. 'Except –'

'Except last weekend because I was there?' Naomi offered. The comment materialised in a far more unfriendly tone than it was intended and Naomi screwed her eyes shut in exasperation at her own curt manner.

'It wasn't like that,' Emily began.

'Whatever,' Naomi shrugged, trying to mediate between her indignation that she was being strung-along and her desire not to take it out on Emily. 'I don't care.' _Keep your secrets, _she thought. She looked around. They had begun to wander down a carpeted hallway lined with dark-wood panelling and populated with nameless portraits in ornate gilt frames. 'You know people at college think you guys are, like, Columbian cocaine barons or something. This doesn't really help your case.'

Emily rolled her eyes. 'People at college are fucking morons,' she told her.

'Well you're not wrong there,' Naomi agreed. 'Speaking of...' she added as she turned to see Cook hurtling towards them.

'Alright my lovely ladies?' he inquired, slinging his arms around both of their shoulders and squeezing his lithe body in between them. 'If you'd care to follow me through to the drawing room...'

'The drawing room?' Naomi repeated. 'Are you _shitting_ me?'

Cook seemed amused at the comment. 'Only the best for you Blondie,' he told her, guiding them into the room at the end of the hall.

The drawing room was huge. In the centre against the wall was a huge rough-marble hearth. There was no fire, but elaborately upholstered sofas and chair were orientated around it as if there was. Other, less ornate chairs surrounded free-standing chess boards and card tables, and a long liquor cabinet lined one of the walls. At the opposite end of the room were white-painted French doors, newer-looking than the rest of the house, which presumably opened out onto a patio.

Cook was almost instantly grappling around elbow-deep in the drinks cabinet. Naomi heard the hollow, scraping sound of glass bottled being slid across the shelves inside.

Naomi sat down awkwardly on the sofa closest to the hearth. Emily immediately sat next to her. Emily's attentiveness to Naomi was becoming more and more palpable, causing Naomi to wonder if Emily hadn't come to the same conclusion as she had – that there were benefits to making her a friend. It wasn't like the group paid her much attention. In fact, Naomi wouldn't have been surprised if she was only in the group because she hadn't succeeded in making friends of her own, and was forced to tag along with her sister.

Straightening up from his crouch, Cook thrust several bottles of half-finished spirits into Effy's lap. 'Pass those 'round, yeah?' he told her. Cook's expression then seemed to lose its air of mischief, and a seriousness drew over his features in a way that Naomi hadn't seen before. His crooked teeth retreated behind his pink lips and the smile-creases around his green eyes faded into smooth skin. 'It's raining pretty hard,' he said, glancing towards the French doors. 'Freds; Jay? Gimme a hand?' And with that the three of them left the room, JJ closing the door softly after them.

No one else in the room seemed to acknowledge the boys' exit.

Naomi cleared her throat. 'So ... what do you guys do here? Like, drink Glenfiddich from whiskey tumblers and play backgammon whilst you discuss those troublesome American colonies?'

'Pretty much,' Effy answered, busily inspecting the label on a bottle of Glenfiddich. 'If by that you mean get twatted on whatever we can find until we fall asleep.' She looked up, fixing Naomi with a completely unreadable look.

'Flip Eff' Pandora said suddenly, making Naomi jump. 'Where's Naomi going to sleep? We never sorted it.'

'She can just stay in the spare room,' Katie said, waving away Pandora's panic. 'It's clean enough.'

'Great ... thanks,' Naomi muttered.

'Well I'm sure Emily wouldn't mind you bunking up with her,' Effy observed helpfully.

Emily's cheeks instantly flushed red as if the blood vessels had exploded beneath her skin.

'Fuck's sake Effy,' Katie said tiredly. 'Will you just drop it already?'

Naomi raised her eyebrows as she waited for someone to elaborate.

It was Pandora who noticed her confusion and spoke up. 'Emily tried to proper lez-out on Eff. Snogged her right on the lips in front of loads of people,' she explained.

'Ohmygod,' Katie said in exasperation, barely believing the conversation happening after she'd expressly asked it not to.

'With tongue,' Pandora mouthed at Naomi behind her hand, so as not to enrage Katie further.

'I'd had a shit-load of MDMA,' Emily said, sheepishly meeting Naomi's gaze. 'It was just ... it was –'

'Nice,' Effy finished for her. 'It was nice.'

Katie glared at her.

...


End file.
